


Pixilated (Of Scotch and Catnip and Weed)

by IreneADonovan



Series: Pixel [2]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: AU -- Erik and Raven came back, Canon Disabled Character, Cats, Charles You Will Be Drunk, Charles in a Wheelchair, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-XMFC, Romantic Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 01:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10629189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/pseuds/IreneADonovan
Summary: Pixel gets stoned on catnip. Sean gets stoned, not on catnip. Silliness ensues. Erik and Charles drink together. CharlesAngst ensues.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Pixilated:  
> 1\. eccentric or whimsical  
> 2\. drunk
> 
> Never it it be said that I passed up a good pun (or a bad one)...

“Is that cat anywhere around?” Erik looked suspiciously around the study as he poured himself a glass of scotch.

Charles glanced around, saw no hint of the feline whirlwind, turned his attention back to setting up the chessboard. “Why? Planning to shut the door on her?”

“No. Although it would be nice to get through a game without her sending half the pieces flying.”

“Only half? I think you underestimate her.”

Erik chuckled, strode over and claimed a quick kiss. “If you must know, I stopped at the pet store in town today. We promised her catnip this morning.”

Charles smiled. “That we did.”

Erik pulled a tiny paper sack from his back pocket. “So I got her this. It's a catnip mouse.” He shook it out onto his palm. The body was a furry teardrop a little over an inch long, with a narrow strip of fur for a tail.

As if on cue, Pixel chose that moment to make an appearance. She hurtled across the study and up a bookshelf, and from there she leapt to the chessboard, sending a half-dozen pieces flying. Then she paused expectantly, golden eyes wide and curious.

Erik shook his head, tossed the mouse into the air.

Another leap and more scattered chess pieces, and Pixel snagged the mouse in midair. She landed neatly on the ground, dropped the mouse, batted it with one tiny paw. She sniffed it deeply, licked it a few times, then pounced on it, even more manic than usual.

She pounced on and swatted and licked the toy for several minutes, until she grew glassy-eyed and her movements slowed.

Charles laughed. “Erik, I think you just got our cat stoned.”

Erik didn't even protest at the word “our.”

Pixel trotted out of the room, catnip mouse dangling from her mouth.

**~xXx~**

Sean had the munchies.

That was the only reason he came back inside. Otherwise he would have stayed stretched out on the lawn, staring up at the stars, drifting in a blissful pot-induced haze. Way better than enduring the tense atmosphere inside the mansion.

But no, he needed food. He needed food now.

There was a light on in the study as he crept past, but instead of silence punctuated only by the click of moving chess pieces, he heard laughter. Drunken laughter, but still. Maybe those two were finally getting their shit together.

Sean entered the kitchen, flipped on the light. Pixel blinked up at him from the center of the table, something small and furry clutched to her chest. Shit, he hoped that wasn't a real mouse. No way was he touching it to find out, not even stoned.

He rummaged through the refrigerator, scored some leftover pizza. Pixel watched as he plunked down on a chair and lifted a slice to his mouth. There was something familiar about her vague-eyed stare, but he wasn't sure what.

**~xXx~**

Erik was a little drunk. Charles was a little drunker.

There was a reason alcohol was called liquid courage. They were both nervous, though neither of them was willing to admit it. While the morning's makeout session had been amazing, it really hadn't gone beyond frantic kissing and some desperate groping, and it had left a lot of important questions unanswered.

Could their fragile détente last? Could they find their way past the anger, the guilt, the bitter words designed to draw blood? Could they love each other enough to even try?

And then there was the frigging elephant that was sucking all the air out of the room, the question Charles was drinking to avoid thinking too hard about. What sort of physical relationship could they even have, now?

Charles drained his glass, refilled it.

Erik captured his rook with a knight.

Charles advanced his queen. “Mate in three,” he declared.

Erik studied the board, slowly tipped over his king. “Well played. Shall we call it a night?”

Charles' mouth went dry.

Erik rose, circled the board, invaded Charles' personal space. “I've been waiting all night to get my hands on you.”

But Charles flinched away from his touch.

“Charles?”

“Are you sure about this?”

“This?”

“Us.”

Erik knelt in front of him, took his hands. “Yes, but I take it you're having second thoughts.”

Charles kept his gaze averted. “It's not going to be like it was before.”

“I know that.” Erik's voice was maddeningly calm.

Charles snapped. “Do you? Have you really thought about it? I'm fucking _paralyzed_ , Erik. I don't know if I can even _have_ sex in any way worth mentioning.”

Erik lifted Charles' hand and kissed it. “If all I ever get to do for the rest of my life is kiss you, it'll be enough.”

Charles wanted to believe him. “You say that now.”

“I'll say that always. You really think I would hold your disability against you?” His voice dropped to a whisper as he added, “A disability I caused.”

Charles heard the love underlying the pain in Erik's voice, and it was enough. It would have to be. “Then kiss me.”


End file.
